The Skills of a Healer
by PeppyPower
Summary: A lost mare is giving birth in the woods and Legolas comes to her aid. But not without experiencing some bitter and very painful consequences. The resulting injury is even beyond Estel's healing skills. PreFellowship. Legolas angst.
1. Chapter 1

**The Skills of a Healer**

by iragreenleaf/PeppyPower

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I guess that's perfectly obvious. And I don't do this for money, but for the fact that I love Legolas-angst.

Summary: A lost mare is giving birth in the woods and Legolas comes to her aid. But not without bitter and very painful consequences. Pre-Fellowship, but most likely AU anyway. See for yourself.

A/N: Okay (takes a deep breath), here we go: I can tell I belong to a family of horse breeders, so I know about horse births and witnessed many of them. And I suppose I got all the other medical facts right, for I experienced all of this myself. I can tell about broken bones and dislocated shoulders if there are any questions. Just ask. I wrote this during my recent time in hospital. I promise to update weekly.

Rated: T

My biggest hugs go to Middle-earth's best beta Nautika. You should take a look at her own fics, they are just fantastic.

Nautika, thanks for your patience and your time. Thanks to you and to "my" DC ladies for being with me and for encouraging me. And thanks to all the members of the Mellon chronicles yahoo group.

I'd like feedback, for I always try to improve my writing.

* * *

He had never been late before. 

Perhaps one hour, but not an entire day. Estel sat in the small clearing next to Rivendell, legs crossed, and let his gaze wander over the Misty Mountains and the High Pass just in sight.

His mind drifted away. They had spent some enjoyable weeks in Rivendell with archery and sword training, but Legolas had left for Mirkwood about two months ago. His father had asked for his assistance in some kind of royal matter.

His friend had only left with the promise to meet him on exactly this particular day, right here, at this place. Actually, it would have been only fair to meet half the distance between Mirkwood and Rivendell.

But Legolas had wanted to bring a young mare along, the still a little inexperienced Galad, a grey horse with a long, bright mane. Riding her for the first time alone, without a group, would be some task, he had said. And so he had asked Estel to wait for him in sight of the Misty Mountains.

Anyway, after their meeting, they were supposed to ride to Rohan together to visit some of the finest horse breeders there, for Estel's foster father, Lord Elrond of Imladris, was in need of a new stallion for his own horse breed.

Sometimes, other bloodlines crossed with the blood of elven horses would bring healthy, well built foals with the best constitution a warriors' horse could offer. No words had been said, but Estel just knew that his father would prefer a black one, and he thought of all the breeders they would have to visit to choose a young stallion with an extraordinary height, an excellent exterior and interior plus good behavior and a great character.

Estel sighed. Legolas has never been late, indeed. He whistled and his reliable mare Wilwarin let the fine, green grass alone, trotted along and nuzzled his hand. He sighed again and mounted. "We shall go and look for him. I have this feeling trouble already found him this time," he told the chestnut and she shook her head up and down in agreement - as though she understood what had been said to her.

* * *

"Come on, girl, you can do it, one more push and it will be here. Come on! I can feel it is still alive." In Legolas head, times and places began to spin around. 

There was not a now, an earlier or a later, whereabouts became meaningless while his hands, full of blood and birth fluids, pulled on the rear legs of a tiny, little foal that was about to come to this world. The mare and her little one were fighting for their lives. Legolas knew that for sure.

* * *

On his way to meeting Estel, most of the days had gone smoothly. His young mare Galad had not betrayed him once. The strong and well trained steed had even allowed him to ride through some nights, for he had left his home much too late to meet Estel in time. Royal matters, as usual. 

But just hours before their meeting point, Galad suddenly had become excited, her ears had started to move, and she had wanted him to turn to the right. The blonde archer knew he could trust his horse as he would any creature and had changed the direction.

On a well hidden clearing, Legolas had discovered the reason: A sweating mare, scratching the dry leafs with her hoof, just throw herself to the ground in pain. Then she stood up, turned around on weary legs, only to lay down again within a few seconds.

Legolas' trained gaze discovered the swollen belly and he knew: The poor horse was about to give birth, but apparently with some problems.

He quickly but almost silently dismounted and left his horse grazing. After that, the archer slipped out of his quiver and tunic, then opened his bracers. He washed his hands in a small stream next to a lonely willow tree in the middle of the clearing and his quiet footsteps brought him next to the laying mare that breathed hard.

"You will be fine. I will reach into you to help the young one come to this world. But only if there is no progress with your labor. Trust me, I will care for you," he whispered in elvish. The mare stayed calm but looked at him with pain-widened eyes.

Legolas sat aside to watch the mare some time, but as he had feared, there seemed to be trouble with this birth. Perhaps the mare had felt like that and therefore ran away from her home wherever this might be.

But right now, he had to do what a horse breeder would do in such a situation. Silently, as was the elven way, he slipped behind the trembling mare and reached with one probing hand into her birth canal. "Easy, easy," he whispered in elvish while his long fingers moved to look for the foals' nose, normally laying on the front legs inside the mother. Then, suddenly, Legolas froze. What he felt were not the front, but the rear legs.

And he knew: There was no time to lose, for a mare's uterus would only hold the connection between her and her foal for a short time while giving birth. The placenta would rip off and the foal would die within moments because of the lack of oxygen. Legolas pushed his other hand in, too. He felt that the tiny one was still alive. But the labors of the weakened mare seemed to die down.

"Come on, push, we can do it together," again, he used elvish for horses always liked this tongue. The mare moaned but prepared for another contraction. Legolas used his strength but he did not want to injure the mare, so he stopped pulling when the foal's pelvis reached the one of its mother, some mostly small and delicate passage.

Then, another contraction, Legolas pulled with all his force and the mare, in utter pain, thrashed her rear legs around. It happened within one second: One forceful kick hit the archer's right shoulder. Legolas heard a bone crack but pure adrenaline kept him going and he did not feel any pain.

He knew he had to get the little one out now. Quickly. The foal was completely through its mother's own pelvis now and Legolas felt the navel rip. He pulled once more with all his might, the mare again moaned deeply and seconds later, a wet, blood-stained foal slipped out and into Legolas' lap.

The archer used his left hand to squeeze the little one's nose and mouth to get the blood and birth liquid out of the airways, then he smiled: It breathed. "Oh Elbereth, thank you," he whispered, exhausted, and laid the tiny foal down on the grass, next to its mother. He felt that there was something wrong with his right arm so he only used his left hand and gently massaged the newborn's ribcage to steady its breathing.

His legs almost betrayed him when he stood up to take a closer look at the mare. She was exhausted, too, but her fastened heartbeat seemed to get back to normal and she already turned her head and a high whinny escaped her mouth. She called for her newborn.

Legolas stood back to allow the mom and her filly some space. He had discovered the gender when the foal had slipped into his lap. He was tired, not only because of the horse's birth. He hadn't slept for some nights before and had delayed eating also, just to make some time. And suddenly, with the vanishing adrenaline running through his veins, a white, hot pain shot along his right arm and his legs almost gave way. He headed back to the lonely willow tree in the middle of the clearing, sat down and closed his eyes against the sensation of sickness he suddenly felt. 'A dislocated shoulder. Ai, he thought. It must be a dislocated shoulder. Again. But I can deal with it,' he told himself.

* * *

Estel frowned when his chestnut lifted her ears and suddenly a demanding whinny escaped her mouth. Wilwarin could feel the presence of other horses. He patted her neck softly and murmured her name to calm her down. As usual, the man trusted his steed to find the ones of her kind, as horses do with their herd instinct. 

The chestnut snorted and immediately changed direction. Estel gave her all the space she needed, eventually laying the reins down and loosening his grip on them.

It still frightened him that his friend had not shown up.

Only an instant later, the ranger heard another horse answer. 'It is not too far away,' he told himself. In fact, his trained ears suspiciously heard more than one horse answer and he froze. If this were Legolas' horse, the archer most probably was not alone. And Estel had no idea who would have accompanied the Mirkwood prince. He knew Galad's whinny, very high and well intonated, but this time, it was strange. She sounded not like she should.

He dismounted quietly and took the reins of his mare in one hand, the chestnut snorted and shook her head. "Shhh", the man whispered and started walking in the direction the whinnies came from. His other hand on the hilt of his sword. Just in case.

There was no path underneath the huge oak and willow trees and Estel cursed the hot, dry days of spring for the very noticeable noise he produced. Leafs from lower trees flashed into his vision and he angrily pushed them away, his mare trailing along.

Only moments later, he reached a small clearing. First, he stayed hidden behind a few hazel bushes and let his gaze wander around and finally gasped at the sight before him. As he anticipated, Legolas' horse was not alone. She stood with another one, a dark brown with a curled mane, sweat all over her thin body that prominently revealed the lines of her ribs.

Her flanks and chest showed signs of exhaustion, for she was breathing much too fast and very unsteadily, too. She looked like she would fall any minute, and Estel suddenly felt sympathy for the poor animal. Then, his eyes stopped:The mare seemed to lick at something and right in front of her legs, he spotted the reason A small, tiny foal lay there, almost unresponsive, but obviously alive.

The little one's back was dark from birth fluids, so the birth must have taken place less than one hour ago, he thought.

Estel lifted his gaze, looking for a sign of Legolas and found immediately what he was looking for. The blonde archer sat leaning against a solitude tree in the middle of the clearing, his gaze fixed upon the newborn and its mother.

It took Estel only one moment to see that his friend looked anything but fine: Blood covered the elf's arms and hands, for he must have loosened his bracers before. Even the blonde braids which had fallen from behind his ears, were stained with blood. He obviously seemed to be in some kind of pain. His chin rested upon his chest. The archer's breathing was labored and he looked as exhausted as the poor mare now watching her foal making its first tries to stand on his tiny, little legs.

The small brown with the big, white blaze eagerly tried to get on its feet. An amazing sight, Estel always loved when it came to horse breeding.

Before stepping out of the bushes, Estel chose to make his presence known without frightening horses or elf, for he saw that Legolas had only eyes and ears for the horses next to him. But suddenly, the blonde archer, too, felt someone near and grabbed one of his daggers.

* * *

TBC (you see, I'm a good girl feeding you with veeeeery long chapters) 


	2. Chapter 2

**The Skills of a Healer**

by PeppyPower/iragreenleaf

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter one (if you feel the need to read it again)

AN: Don't hit me. I know, it took me longer than expected. But hospital routine had me back for two and a half weeks and another surgery took all of my strength.

Betas: Nautika and Niriel Raina.Thanks for your time, your patience and your true words. I needed that. The both of you did what you could. All the mistakes I forgot to edit are my own.

* * *

"Legolas," Estel cadenced his voice and made his way to his friend, noticing that the archer had not even tried to lift his bow which was laying next to him.

"Estel! I am so glad you are here, mellon-nin. She needs help," murmured the elf and shifted his gaze back upon the mare and her newborn. The foal tried hard and finally managed to straighten its legs to stand wearily in front of its mother.

Estel saw that Legolas smiled weakly at the scene and kneeled beside the elf who seemed to have no intention of getting on his feet. "I will help her, Legolas, but first let me take a look at you. It is not your blood all over your arms and hands, is it? Are you hurt? And do not play games, for I saw that you are avoiding using your right arm," Estel stood up again to retrieve his pack from his saddlebags, then he left Wilwarin with the other horses. "Is this what held you up? A mare giving birth?" he asked softly, chuckling.

He heard the elf's answer, but Legolas seemed too weary to look at him: "Aye. She was lost, Galad found her here and I felt the need to help her. I knew she was in labor and found out that the young one would come backwards, rear legs first." Surprised, Estel raised an eyebrow. "You know what this means, Legolas. Even experienced horse breeders have trouble when it comes to such a birth and you are not exactly raising horses yourself," he said, shaking his head.

Legolas mumbled something and Estel noticed that his friend's voice was indeed barely a whisper. He listened as the elf softly explained that there had not been a choice but to help the mare and that both horses would have died had he denied his aid. To Estel, Legolas' eyes looked tired and the elf was shivering. But one trained gaze showed him that the blood covering Legolas' sleeves was only the remnant of the horse birth. 'Thank the Valar,' the ranger thought.

"What did you do?" Estel's voice was even so soft when he kneeled back down. Together, they watched the foal stand for the first time and unsteadily wander around his mother, looking for the one place to still its hunger. "Amazing, is it not?" he heard Legolas' whisper.

Estel shook his head and asked once again. "Watching a new, pure life is always amazing, Legolas. But tell me, what did you do, mellon-nin?"

* * *

At this, Legolas sighed and finally focused on his friend. "I...I helped her. When she laid down, I took off my over tunic, washed my hands and reached inside her to find the tiny one's legs and head, for her labor had not shown any improvement within half an hour. I know how dangerous it is with horses, they must give birth very fast, or the foal would die." Legolas closed his eyes. 

"But instead, I found only the rear legs and knew this was becoming delicate. So I grabbed the rear legs and pulled with the rhythm of the contractions. She was in pain, Estel, she fought. I did not have a chance to avoid her kicking leg hitting me. But we both made it. There is the young one." The archer smiled weakly and coughed. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain. His shoulder was on fire, the pain emerging from it spread along the elbow to each and every fingertip, to the chest and even made it difficult breathing.

He knew that Estel, with the eye of a skilled healer, would only need one look. He was right. "Your right shoulder," he heard his voice and Legolas felt his friend's experienced, cool hands touching the already hot, swollen joint. Legolas tried to keep a neutral face but failed terribly. "Is it dislocated?" he managed to ask between two gasps. Normally, the pain would have been tolerable for an elf. But Legolas was exhausted and felt very tired. Besides, the pain seemed to overwhelm his mind, he had no more strength left to fight it.

He heard Estel sighing. "I need to take a closer look, Legolas. We must get you out of the shirt, too."

Legolas gave no answer, but tried to lift his upper body a little from the trunk of the tree so Estel had proper access. But it was a mistake. A big mistake, Legolas thought. Only lifting his body caused so much pain, he would have preferred laying down on the ground, never ever moving again.

The archer bit his lip. "I do not think I can be of assistance here," he whispered.

* * *

This was very uncommon, Estel noticed. Normally, the ranger would rather hear the trees talk than Legolas telling the truth about his injuries. 

"Legolas, I need you to be honest with me." Estel suddenly said. "Look at me," he commanded and the elf raised his eyes. "How much does it hurt? You know about dislocated shoulders. It would not be your first time. I did not count all the times I had to relocate it which you know is not a pleasant thing. So, what do you think of this injury? Does it feel the same as always?"

Waiting for an answer, the ranger gently put an arm behind Legolas' neck and helped him sit up. Estel noticed that Legolas managed to hold his breath and hold back a moan also. He knew from his own experience that serious shoulder injuries were very painful. Estel shook his head in frustration when he noticed that his assumption must be right. He hated how much his friend suffered.

He watched Legolas with intense eyes and the elf finally managed to answer: "It...it feels...very like a dislocated shoulder. But you want the truth, Estel? I guess it is more serious. The pain is worse. And it feels quite hot." The ranger realized that the elf didn't have the strength or stubborness to lie to him about his injury. Estel saw Legolas closing his eyes.

Estel took a few steps to the small stream next to the willow tree and came back with a wet cloth. Gently, he washed away the remains of birth, dark bloodstreams, on Legolas' arms and hands. His friend did not even complain but succumbed.

"Well then," Estel said, "Our next task would be getting you out of the shirt." He tried to grab Legolas' good arm and strip it over his friend's head, but the archer winced. Understanding even the slightest movement of the shirt like under tunic seemed to cause the elf greater pain, Estel made up his mind within seconds and took his knife to cut away the silken fabric. Legolas sighed again and Estel chuckled softly: "When we get back to Rivendell, I will get you a new one, my friend, I promise."

'No ordinary way to undress,' he thought. But right now, he would have a better look at the injured shoulder, which seemed bruised and swollen. The dirty hoof had even somehow, through all the fabric, ripped the skin. Estel knew about injuries like this one. They often tended to get infected, even with an elf.

"This will hurt, my friend," he whispered, when he touched the hot skin with his skilled fingers. Legolas moaned at the touch, but Estel continued to examine the shoulder. He noticed that the swelling of the joint was so great, it literally made it almost impossible to feel something beneath, pressing his fingers into the swollen muscles.

He felt that Legolas tried to stay calm but he seemed to fail miserably. "Legolas, I do not want to hurt you further. But I need to look for the injury. Can you stay still for me, my friend?"

The answer came as a whispered muffle: "Estel, to be honest, I do not feel well. But I shall try and stay calm now."

Estel concentrated on his task. There had to be damage, yes, but he needed a relaxed patient to feel exactly what was wrong. His hands released the swollen joint and he heard Legolas gasping in pain. "Done?" the elf asked.

He shook his head, but before he could explain his further actions, Estel waved one hand in the direction of the horses. "Look, Legolas, it is drinking!" he said and heaved a sigh of relief.

"By the way, Estel, it is a girl, a little girl," he heard the archer's musical laugh. "I feel joy filling my heart, washing my pain away. I am so happy they are fine," the elf continued. Estel chuckled at Legolas' admittance. For an instant, they only heard the comforting sound of the filly sucking in the always needed first milk, which was to help her staying healthy.

"I will mix the mare a few herbs to strengthen her later. When we move on, we will take her with us to Imladris. I have this feeling I will need to get you there because of your injury, Legolas. Rohan can wait," Estel explained, while Legolas tiredly tried to stay in a sitting position. The elf nodded, looking at the ranger. "We will set up camp here overnight, but I suppose we should head back for Imladris as fast as possible," Estel said. Legolas nodded again.

Within a short moment, he had collected an arm full of dried branches and started a fire. 'I'm glad I brought this small, new kettle with me,' Estel thought. He had wanted to give it to Hilderith, a horse breeder and heeler in Rohan. Estel had always adored how Hilderith treated ill or injured horses and the kettle seemed to be only a small gift after the Rohirrim had shown him how to prepare some special salves he could use on horses.

While Estel now heated up water in this kettle he asked Legolas: "Can you move your fingers?" The archer tried hard but just could not, there was not even the slightest move of one finger. "Do you feel your arm and your fingers? Or are they numb?" was his next question to outline any serious nerve-injuries. Legolas closed his eyes and Estel knew his friend tried to describe the signals of his body. "Well, Estel, I guess the last two fingers do not feel like they always do. A little numb, aye," the elf admitted finally.

Damn, Estel thought, knowing this could mean nerve damage or at least a nerve under harsh tissue pressure. Just the thing they did not need at all. The ranger sighed, took the hot water from the kettle and poured it into his own cup, adding some herbs he had chosen earlier.

In silence, they both looked at the tiny filly, now trying to toss her little head just the way her mother did. Estel couldn't help but smile at Legolas' excited face. He knew that the elven archer loved horses and saving a mare and her newborn from sure death was a big deal to him.

A few minutes later, the smell of the cooling draught reminded him of his next action and broke the comfortable peace.

"Legolas? You must drink this, mellon-nin," Estel whispered, handing the still steaming cup to the elf. One fluid movement brought him behind the elf's slender upper body to hold him up while Legolas took the cup in his left hand. The elf did not stir and had even the strength to humour him. "Hm. Delicious! Smells like...well...I would say like the special-Estel-tea-of-doom," the archer said and hissed.

Estel grimaced. He knew the sharp hot pain common with such injuries and felt his friend's body tense. He reached for the elf's blood-stained braids to get them out of his sight and laid his hand on Legolas' other shoulder to comfort him.

"What does this tea contain?" Estel noticed that Legolas eyed the cup suspiciously and smiled.

"Nothing uncommon, Legolas. I added some herbs to reduce the swelling and others to ease the pain... "

"Good then, I shall drink it," Legolas gulped the warm liquid down within few seconds.

Sighing again, Estel pulled him near so that the archer's head rested against his own shoulder. "And something else, my dear Legolas, something to put you to sleep as well, for it will be the only way to examine your shoulder when you are fully asleep and totally relaxed," he chuckled sadly.

Legolas mumbled something Estel couldn't quite make out, but stayed still. The ranger shook his head in dismay, glad that Legolas remained in this position, for he needed to examine the shoulder from behind. Estel hated himself for needing this little white lie. He knew how Legolas hated to be put to sleep. But there was no time to argue. It took some minutes, then he felt Legolas' body gradually relaxing , the strong elven muscles losing all their usual tenseness. The elf's breathing indicated that he was indeed asleep

Estel's trained fingers moved to Legolas' neck to check for a pulse and found it strong, but a little bit too fast. There was no time to lose, for he knew his friend would not be out long. Again, Estel started examining Legolas' right shoulder, the shoulder the archer would usually need to pull the bowstring back, to hold the arrow in place before releasing it.

Perhaps the right shoulder to a right-handed archer was far more important than the left one. Carefully, sword-calloused fingers moved along the white skin above the exposed collarbone to explore the damage within the joint.

First of all, Estel felt the sharp parts of a broken collarbone almost piercing the skin. He gently pushed them deeper, back to where they belonged, sure that the broken collarbone would heal on its own. He moved on and had to dig in his fingers very, very deeply.

The swollen muscle and skin only allowed limited actions and although the elf seemed to be in a deep slumber, his neck muscles constricted beneath Estel's probing fingertips. "Hush, Legolas, let it go," the human whispered in the archer's ear and continued to seek out the damage within the joint.

Estel could barely feel the location of the prominent bone of Legolas' upper arm. He traced an upward path with his finger and suddenly stopped when he felt what he had feared.

"I guess it is not dislocated, Legolas, but I am afraid it seems to be broken. Badly broken," Estel murmured to the sleeping archer, when his fingers finally discovered the joint socket, still filled with the bone's head. But strangely filled, for the bone seemed extended as though needing much more space than it usually was allowed to have.

Estel sighed. This, he knew, could only mean the head of the bone itself was broken into pieces.

An injury, not even the elven healing would be able to deal with properly.

Legolas made no sound during the last part of the examination, only subconsciously constricting a muscle, like trying to avoid the sharp pain. Estel sent out a few curses. The injury looked serious and he would not have the proper equipment to set the broken bone correctly so the archer's usually fast healing would only make it worse: The broken bone-head would produce new bone material to fill the defect and linger the fragments together thus making it almost impossible for Legolas to move his right arm ever again. Meaning that the bone was to heal to a much bigger size than nature had allowed it to possess, a size too big for the joint's socket and capsule.

If the injury was to remain untreated, Legolas would never shoot his bow again.

Silently, Estel slipped in front of his friend and took Legolas forearm in his left hand, the upper arm in his right, hoping the elven prince would not awake and feel the pain he was about to cause him. "I am sorry, Legolas, believe me. I hate to do that," the ranger whispered, more to reassure himself, and closed his eyes to concentrate. When he opened them again, his gaze looked determined.

It was barely a movement, but a gentle lift of the arm, which seemed to weight more than it usually did...but only this simple action made the broken bones in Legolas' shoulder crack so loudly, Estel could almost feel the pain himself and his stomach cringed. Another loud crack, sickening and even echoing in the almost silent woods made the blonde archer cry out in agony. It was of no use, the ranger just had to immobilize the arm.

Estel gently pressed the injured limb to Legolas' abdomen, quickly grabbing the prepared bandages to bind the arm to his body. He worked efficiently and quickly, when the archer started to move under his ministrations.

"Shhh, Legolas, easy, you shall be fine," Estel comforted the wakening elf who suddenly seemed to fight for every breath. A single tear ran down the archer's fair face. Legolas looked like a little elfling, not understanding what was happening to his body. Sometimes, it hurt being a healer, Estel thought.

**TBC**

( Is anybody considering this a cliffie? Nah, I don't think so...)


	3. Chapter 3

**The Skills of a Healer**

by PeppyPower/iragreenleaf

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter one

AN: This is Kay, Nina's brother, finally posting this chappie, since she's in hospital AGAIN. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the doctors and nurses at The National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in London/UK. They saved Nina's life as well as almost ten years ago OB's.

Betas: Nautika and Nieriel Raina once again, best betas out there. Thanks for your time, your patience and your true words.

* * *

Pain. The first thing he barely noticed when consciousness decided to come back to him, was pain.

So consuming, he could not breath. His chest hurt and it took him all the effort he was able to give to just inhale the much needed air. Someone called his name and touched the tiny dip in his throat, causing a soft moan from him. Then he felt where all the pain came from. His right shoulder burned like thousands of fires on the wooden ground of his father's realm, sending waves of agonizing pain through Legolas' body.

'Always the shoulder,' he thought.

The archer tried to lift his body which was flat on the ground. Perhaps the change of positions would ease the pain. But he lackened the strength, dizziness forced him to close his eyes again. "Easy, easy, Legolas. Stay down and try not to move," he heard a soft, commanding voice. Estel's voice. Legolas felt the ranger taking his left hand in his own.

"How is she doing?" the elf barely whispered, his shoulder pained him beyond words. "She?" Estel retorted.

"The mare, of course."

Legolas forced himself to at least open one eye and take a look at the horses without even turning his head. The filly had stopped drinking and stood beside her mother, the tiny mouth covered with milk. But the mare herself seemed tired, her head hung deeply and she showed no interest in the fresh green grass or the cloverleafs on the ground.

Legolas did not know how much time had passed, he felt unbelievably tired and distached. "The little one just finished her first meal. But I think I should get the mare some herbs to make her feel better," the ranger's words drifted into his blurry mind. Only moments later, he felt Estel's cool hand on his good shoulder. "How do you feel, mellon-nin?" Estel asked and took a closer look at his friend's face.

"Fine," Legolas mumbled still a little incoherently and tried to shift his full gaze onto the horses. But moving his head turned out to be almost unbearably painful. "You lie terribly, I can see it in your eyes," the ranger told him and chuckled.

"So, has it been dislocated? The shoulder, I mean," Legolas asked with his eyes closed again, sounding like he was not interested in his own wellbeing at all. "I am sorry, my friend, but it has naught been so. I must say that the head of your upper arm, the ball of your shoulder joint, is broken into some pieces."

'Just fine,' Legolas thought miserably.

"The injury is worse than I had anticipated", Estel told him. Legolas finally opened his pain clouded eyes: "But you were able to fix it, were you not?" he asked, confused. The pain, he remembered. The pain would not be so immense had Estel already set the bone. But he felt bandages, too.

"Sorry, Legolas. I had hoped to break it to you more gently, but, no, I just cannot set your bones. There is no way to do this out here. The broken pieces have moved away from each other and they need to be re-fixated. This cannot be done without opening your skin and muscle, mellon-nin," Estel held the archer's gaze while Legolas suddenly looked alarmed. "What do you mean by opening the skin? This is my right arm, Estel, I am an archer and in dire need of two arms," he echoed, fear written across his face, something very rare. Usually, Legolas was a master at hiding his emotions.

"Worry not, my friend. Yes, you are right. Opening means cutting into your shoulder, revealing the bone. Then, the procedure will require an experienced healer who would pin the bones with splints to each other so they can heal properly. I have not done this before, only witnessed it once. But trust me, this will be done on a drugged patient only. And we will head off for Rivendell tomorrow, " Estel said quickly. Legolas nodded silently.

"You know, Estel, drugging me for such a procedure is not the way of my people. But I understand that you will need a quiet patient to do your work. So I shall agree."

"Legolas...," Estel began, "It is not I. My father will do it." The archer thought for a moment. He trusted his friend. But, of course, Estel's healing skills would not match the ones of his foster father. His friend did not have centuries of healing experience and expertise like the elven lord. Elrond would be able to help him. He felt his body and mind overwhelmed with pain. But slowly, very slowly, he drifted back to sleep again, the effect of the drug not completely worn off.

"Estel," the elf murmured barely auditable, "I know you drugged me this time, so you will have to watch over the mare and her filly for me." The ranger watched in relief as his friend gradually relaxed and breathed more easily as the herbs again took effect and the pain was lessened. "Sleep, mellon-nin, I will do so," he smiled.

* * *

When he felt Legolas body tension ease, Estel whistled and Legolas own horse slowly walked over, nuzzling his hand. He greeted the animal and caressed the grey mare's neck, whispering "Galad", for he liked the sound of her name. After that, he took Legolas' bedroll and a blanket out of the saddle-bag to make the elf more comfortable. He stripped Legolas' over-tunic back over his friends' head, only sticking his healthy left arm through the sleeve and finally laid him down again.

But before he set up camp completely, he first dug through his healing supplies. He chose a few herbs, and heated more water he had taken from the small stream next to the willow tree. He crushed Celandine and Fennel, Chamomile, Purple Coneflower and other herbs between his fingers. Estel added what he had chosen earlier and waited til the milky green essence had cooled down a little. It smelled sweetly, almost like Athelas, he thought. Then, Estel took his kettle and slowly walked over to the mare.

The brown stood next to the filly who was sleeping soundlessly and with a full belly. Mistrustful eyes watched him, when he got closer and the mare, fearing for her newborn, snorted uncomfortably. "Sodh, mellon-nin, sedoh" (peace, be calm) Estel whispered and the horse seemed to relax. "Here, you must be thirsty. I brought you something to strengthen you," he murmured to soothe the mare. She eyed him suspiciously, but allowed him to stand beside her.

Estel tentatively offered the kettle with the sweet liquid, and was surprised when she eagerly began to drink without a sign of hesitation. Her tiny mouth, smaller than the mouths of his own or Legolas' horse, was just small enough to fit in the kettle and she drank the herbal tea with a few long sips. When she was done, her head came up to rub on the ranger's arm thankfully. Estel chuckled with happiness. "Hey, hey, sweety, easy, I can make you more later, but I guess we should get you to drink some water first. Remember, you need to drink because your body must produce milk for the little lassie there."

Slowly, very slowly, the mare started to move over to the small stream, the filly jumped up and followed her mum. The brown bent down her head and started drinking the cool, fresh water. After a minute, she finally started to graze. Estel's smile rose and he took a closer look at the small filly. He stretched out his hand and touched the little nose. No fever, plus, the newborn's eyes seemed clear. The filly snorted and looked at the ranger with almost curious eyes. Estel laughed.

"Someone has to name you both, I guess," he told the filly which was still showing him big brown eyes full of trust. "Perhaps I shall call you Aranel, you are such a little princess, and your mum Aduial, for I reached you in the evening. Those are Sindarin words and I suppose Legolas will like them, too," he chuckled.

* * *

Estel and a brightly shining Earendil watched over the mare and her filly this night as they did over a sleeping Legolas. The archer, eyes closed because of the pain caused by the injury, often tried to shift his position, mostly moaning. But Estel always turned him away from his injured shoulder and onto his back again.

At the first light of day, Estel prepared more herbal draughts: One for himself to stay awake and manage the day without further problems, one for Legolas to relieve his pain and finally one for Aduial to help her with the milk production. He smiled at the sight of her tiny one, standing up and stretching like a little puppy dog. After that, Aranel tapped the udder to have breakfast. Aduial licked the back of her filly and began to graze. The other two horses stopped their dozing to join her.

Legolas had already been awake for some minutes, before Estel kneeled down beside him. "This is some kind of an injury!" he heard the archer complain. "I am so used to getting stabbed or poisoned or shot with arrows, but this one tires me." He did not sound happy at all. Estel chuckled: "I brought you some tea to take away the pain, Legolas. Drink it while it's still hot," he explained and helped the elf into a sitting position. "No sleeping herb?" Legolas asked suspiciously. "No sleeping herb," the ranger confirmed. "We have to move on to Rivendell and I need you awake."

* * *

"I can get up on my own, I do not want your help, neither do I need or accept it," groaned the elven archer. About half an hour later, Estel had packed the campsite and they were ready to mount their horses. "Stubborn elf. Why is he always as obstinate as a mule?" Estel whispered between clenched teeth while he was watching Legolas' very un-elven way of mounting his mare. It looked more like the attempt of a dwarf getting on a horse, but - on the other hand - Legolas managed to mount Galad without moaning, crying or complaining.

Aduial and Aranel trailed along and the small filly joyfully circled the other horses. Despite his physical condition, Legolas' heart seemed to laugh at the sight of the spirited filly. Estel knew his friend: Happy horses ment a happy elf. Aduial and Aranel definitely were no elven horses, Legolas and Estel were both unsure to which breed they belonged to. But the archer had appreciated Estel's choice to name them.

They rode in silence, but Estel knew about shoulder injuries and the fact that every movement of his mare should send shots of white hot pain through Legolas' shoulder and arm. He observed his friend and saw that Legolas could not even relax when they took some breaks during the day, to let Aranel drink and leave the other horses grazing.

It was late afternoon, when Estel finally stopped, on a small clearing, surrounded by oak and pine trees. "There is no need to stop now. There will be light for many more hours," Legolas complained. "This goes not on your account, my friend. I know you can handle your injury, or at least are trying to do so. It is on Aranel's account. She and her mother need to rest," Estel explained, hiding the fact that Legolas looked worse than both of the horses. Estel tried not to look at the elf when he dismounted his horse, lacking his elven stamina, grace and strength.

"So we should set up camp," Legolas said. It took the ranger only one short look to know that Legolas was masking his pain. The pain-killing tea Estel had made him during the day already started to wear off. "You stay, where you are. I will do it." He led his friend to one of the bigger trees and sat him down on the ground. After that, he quickly built a fire.

He gazed at the elf and found Legolas' trembling hand on the trunk of an old oak, his face more peaceful now. Estel assumed that the tree was offering his strength to the injured eldar. The spring air suddenly felt cold and Estel, as usual, envied elves because of their amazing tolerance for extreme temperatures. But looking at Legolas, he knew that this time, the elf must feel miserable and cold instead because of the injuriy.

Moments later, Legolas was laying out his bedroll one-handed, or attempting to, pain and fatigue written clearly on his face. The ranger took a step towards his friend, to help him. "Estel," Legolas said, "Worry not. Truly, I am fine. The oak already told me I was going to be all right."

The ranger raised an eyebrow and went to brew some pain killing tea. But this time, he added a sleeping herb. The herb eventually got Legolas down for almost the whole night. Estel again tried to deny sleep, but failed.

Legolas' voice woke him in the early hours of morning, before the first daylight.

"Estel," the elf whispered tiredly, "Someone is coming."

* * *

So, this is what you folks call a cliffie, isn't it?

Kay runs and hides. My sister and Nautika actually decided to end this chapter after another paragraph. But I was thinking: "So what, I like the cliffie much better, lol"


	4. Chapter 4

**The Skills Of A Healer**

by PeppyPower/Nina

Chapter 4

Standard disclaimer: I don't own them, not even in my dreams. Middle-earth is just my playground. JRR Tolkien created those wonderful characters keeping me alive and my mind healthy even if my body is not.

Author's Notes: Sorry it took me so long. But this blasted cancer coming back again made my life hell this past year. You will encounter some POV switches in this chapter as well as in the former ones. I have tried my best to end, respectively start paragraphs as it happens. No worries: The rest of this fic is already written and edited

Beta: Nautika

Dedicated to all my friends and readers: Thanks for your support, care and love. You might want to take a look at the other new stories I posted? I'd feel honored. As for myself - I'm off to hospital again tonight (they didn't have a free bed in neurosurgery ward for me yesterday...so much for this wasteland of a health system). I will have Internet access, though, before I'll disappear to ICU after another spine surgery, meaning feedback is greatly appreciated. You guys are constantly keeping my spirits high.

So, let's get started:

* * *

"Someone is coming"

Estel was awake and up within one fluid second, grabbing the sword that had been sitting next to his bedroll.

"Who is approaching, Legolas?" he asked.

"I know not. Not exactly. No orcs, I guess for we are too close to Imladris. But I would insist you hide Aranel and Aduial, for I have a feeling this could have to do something with them," the elf spoke.

Estel literally jumped at this words and stepped closer to the mare and her filly, who were already grazing fine cloverleafs. He took only time to whisper some sweet words in the Grey tongue in Aduial's ear and then vanished into the woods, the two horses following. In the meantime, Legolas managed to get to his feet, reaching for one of his two daggers. Dried branches cracked aloud and moments later, two men invaded their campsite.

"Look at this, an elf!" one of them exclaimed, completely stunned. Legolas closed his fingers around the hilt of his dagger. Just in time, the ranger returned, his hand on his sword. All of a sudden, the two strangers seemed to recall their manners.

"Well met," one of them greeted, "and I excuse we interrupted you. We're merchants from the Brown Lands on our way to the North Downs and Fornost. Since a week or so, we've been looking for a horse. A mare to be exact. We bought her one month ago in the Riddermark, but she...she...ran away from us," he explained.

Legolas looked at the tired grey horse the other man was leading and it only took him one moment to discover the reason.

"You were hitting her. And probably yelling at her. You mistreated her the way you do your other horse. I know not why this gelding has stayed with you hitherto. This horse has many an injury inflicted by your own hand," the elf said, fury sparkling in his pain-clouded eyes. Estel sighed, raising a brow. And Legolas knew exactly what his friend must be thinking: 'This stubborn elf and the well-being of horses!' That, well, that was another story completely. He saw that Estel was closing his eyes, inhaling deeply.

"That is none of your business, elf," the other man hissed, but his companion whispered to him to be silent, for Estel's hand was still comfortably resting on the hilt of his sword, his warrior posture kind of threatening. "Listen, we are not looking for trouble, if you did not see the horse, then it is well," the first merchant said.

Finally, the ranger spoke: "Actually, now that you are asking: We did see a horse, but that was about one day ago, in a clearing that lies in the direction you just came from," he explained. The men did not answer.

"Mayhap you should, you know, turn around," Estel's voice stayed remarkably innocent.

Both men looked like they had been hit with something themselves, but without further ado, without a word, they turned around and disappeared into the woods from whence they came. That moment, Legolas seemed to feel his weary legs again. He sat down, looking at his friend. "The horses are safe, in another small clearing, waiting for us to come," Estel whispered. "But I should have known - it was so like you to start an argument with these men, Legolas. You cannot save each and every creature from the hands of their owners!" Legolas' gaze dropped and he mumbled something the ranger couldn't quite make out.

"I am sorry, Estel. I only give you grieve...one after another," he started, but his friend shook his head.

"Listen, stubborn son of an almost equally thick-headed father, do not talk like that now. You know that I worry for you. Try to sleep for another hour, Legolas. I will have to make some more tea and I will scout along to see if those two really stay out of our way."

"I shall lay back down, but I shall not sleep," Legolas answered tiredly. His shoulder pained him beyond words and he fell asleep again the moment his head met with his bedroll.

* * *

When the future King of Gondor returned to their campsite, the injured elf was still asleep. Silently, he prepared the tea, broke up camp, readied the horses and, that being done, stood beside his friend: "Awaken, Legolas. I am sorry to say, but you must rise now. We shall be on our way to Imladris again. There aren't too many leagues left, so we are going to reach the valley in the afternoon."

It took some time to help and get Legolas ready to travel. This day, the blond being seemed to have lost all his superior elven stamina and strength.

The rest of the day was a blur to both of them. The elf was in a big amount of pain and Estel needed to use more sedating herbs to keep him as pain-free as possible. He was nearly out of his strongest pain-killing herb, the red poppy-seed, by now. Sometime in the late morning, Estel had reached over to Galad and caught a half-asleep elf before he could fall off his horse, hitting the ground in the end. "Listen, Legolas, we shall reach Imladris within the next few hours. But you will ride with me now." And at that, he had taken the elf by his good arm and had carefully pulled him over. Legolas had not even bothered protesting. Galad, now without her master, had joined Aduial and Aranel and followed the older, experienced Wilwarin down the stony paths.

Legolas dozed off occasionally, but was almost awake when they finally passed the guards and reached Rivendell in the afternoon. He saw Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel waiting for them in the courtyard. Of course. They were always waiting. How did they both know that Estel and he were arriving that precise moment when no one was expecting them? Legolas' tired mind could not come up with a rational thought or solution. Mayhap it was Lord Elrond's gift of foresight. Not that it mattered anyway. He heard Estel explain the last day's events to the older lords. Then, the twins appeared and he felt himself being lifted off the horse. "Take him to the Healing Ward, I shall be there soon." Elrond's voice. Legolas acknowledged the melodious, warm timbre. Later, the young elf would say that he had no idea of how he actually got there. But Estel knew, for he saw, that the twins carefully carried the blond Sinda all the way to the infirmary.

Glorfindel stepped closer to Aduial and Aranel, caressing them softly. "Come with me, I will care for you," he simply whispered and the two horses followed him without hesitation to the barn and the paddocks, Glorfindel telling them of oats and hay and fresh grass.

* * *

"You shall relax, Legolas, please try, child. Let me examine your shoulder or I will have to put you to sleep which I do not prefer." Elrond smiled reassuringly at the younger elf but his eyes were serious.

"It hurts," Legolas sighed and closed his eyes. He felt annoyed. Disgusted because he could not withstand the pain any longer. His very own weakness was more than he could take. He knew he had already endured this ailment for too long. Now he was sitting on one of the large beds in Lord Elrond's Healing Ward. The only thing he really wished for right now was a quiet place without any healer near. But there was Elrond still, waiting for him to find his composure again. "My Lord, please accept my excuse. I know not why this injury is so hard on me. I am disgracing myself, my race, my family and my status as a warrior, but...," he found no words to explain himself any further, hot and salty tears threatening to find their way down his cheeks.

Elrond's voice wasn't more than a whisper: "You, Thranduilion, are not disgracing anything. Your pain is severe. Confide in me, child. I only wish to help and heal."

He was patient, after all, and took his time while Legolas tried to calm himself.

"May I?" The healer's hand withdrew first, hovering nigh unto reaching Legolas' shoulder, waiting until he received consent. The younger elf slowly nodded, attempting to relax his tense muscles: "Please, I am ready."

"You are doing fine, my friend," Estel sat on the bed with the elf, holding him in a sitting position. Legolas wanted to inhale deeply, but he rather sucked in a breath of air. He knew of the smells in Imladris' Healing Ward: The flavor of sweet, tasty healing herbs mixed with the almost overwhelming medicinal smell of the clean, perfectly ironed white sheets and blankets. It could have been a comforting smell, aye, but right now, the elf did not feel very comfortable, but tense still.

He could feel the touch of experienced hands on his burning shoulder, on his hot skin, there were cool fingertips pressing down forcefully, with much more strength, vigor and emphasis than Estel's perceptible touch, searching for bone, tendon and muscle damage.

"Hurts," Legolas mumbled again and Estel leaned the archer's head against his chest. "Hush, I know, I'd walk with you, if I could. Many an injury tend to do this to the receiver, my friend. Try to remain calm, it will be over soon." Estel held Legolas' long blond hair away from the injured shoulder with his other hand so Elrond would have all the space he needed.

The elven lord's fingers quickly found the area he was looking for. "No...no more, please," suddenly a distressed Legolas murmured, his face hidden in Estel's clothing. The ranger sighed and shared a look with his father. "Ada...we should...you know, let him sleep during the examination," he stated.

Elrond briefly stroked Legolas' hair and nodded. "As much as I do not want him to, I think this shall be safe. Do not forget: You already drugged him into a stupor two days ago, you had to continue giving him doses of the red poppy seed. And we will have to completely drug him to perform the procedure itself. It might prove too much in the end. But seeing we will get nowhere, there is no other choice. I will go and prepare the needed draught," he answered and quickly left the room.

"So you are making me sleep again," Legolas whispered and almost wept at this unbidden prospect. "I do not like being out and at the mercy of somebody like a little elfling. It is so embarrassing for a warrior," he sadly added.

Estel, too, stroked the blond hair and smiled: "Hear the brave elven archer speak. Well, Legolas, sometimes, healers need to drug their patients to help them. I know you understand just why we have to make you sleep now, even if it is naught the way of your people. Before cutting your flesh, Elrond shall locate the right point where to open the skin. And as touching and probing hurts you, we will help your body relax. Just listen and feel," he said and during this speech, his hand moved to Legolas' chest, right over the archer's heart: "Your heart is racing, Legolas, do you hear it? Your body is under great distress. The drug will release you from this. Worry not, for I will be with you all the time. Is that well?"

"But you promise to not cut the shoulder open right now?" Legolas asked worriedly, feeling like a little elfling again and hating himself for that.

Estel put his fingers on one of the archer's high cheekbones to calm him and looked him straight in the eye. "No, of course not. This will not work tonight. We shall have to prepare you first, that means washing your whole upper body and your back for a few times to make it as clean as possible. My father will not risk your bone getting inflamed. Then we shall get your hair washed, too, and we will braid it so it will not be in the way. Besides, we shall make sure your stomach is empty before we give you the sleeping herb, the drug you will take in the morn will be much more powerful than the one you have to swallow now. We do not want you to feel too ill, you know. An Elf you may be, my friend, but invincible you are not."

Silently, Elrond had entered the room and joined the conversation: "And we also need to prepare and clean the things we will require, like different knives and some splints. Elladan and Elrohir are with the blacksmiths right now, so this is being taken care of. The splints will look like this one," the older healer said, holding a tiny little metal object in his hand. Legolas gazed at the splint and curiously, took it in his left hand. One of the ends seemed to be pretty sharp, the other looked rather smooth.

"Estel told me that those splints will have to stay...umh...in my bones.. for three weeks," Legolas said. Elrond nodded: "Aye, and consider yourself fortunate, young one, for humans would have to endure them twice as long, since their bodies need more time to heal." Legolas gave the splint back to the elven healer and sighed reluctantly.

"Now will you drink this?" Elrond brought a cup with yellowish liquid to Legolas' lips and the elf swallowed without hesitation, his gaze focused on the elven lord.

"Sleep well, mellon," Estel said, ready to hold Legolas' whole body weight. It did not take long, then the elf closed pain-filled eyes and relaxed in his arms. Within seconds, Estel felt Legolas' heartbeat decelerate. Elrond's fingers were already back on the injured shoulder. Again, his experienced fingertips traced the bone lines and dug deeply into swollen muscles with mere force.

"I cannot feel the total extend of the fracture anymore, but I agree with you, Estel, the humerus head must have been in pieces, and I am sorry it is already on the way mending - after just two days, considering his elven healing. But with all those pieces and the big amount of new bone material filling the gap between them, there will be no way of moving this arm again. We must hurry, and break the bone again completely so it can heal the way it should be healing. I am sorry, this will hurt him immensely," the skilled healer explained.

"I feared this much. But what do we do now?" Estel asked. All of a sudden, he felt tired.

"You will not like it, my son, so you may go and look for Glorfindel or your brothers to assist me," Elrond slowly started. But Estel shook his head no. "I shall be... with him. He needs me," he said. The thought of what was going to happen right now made him sick. His friend would be waking up later in a lot of pain.

Elrond directed Estel to remove the bandages and his son did so with gentle care. Then, the elven lord took Legolas' arm in his. He noticed that the elf's fingers were cold and almost bluish - the overreaction of building new bone, coming with the elven healing ability, had almost cut off the blood flow, thus constricting the veins and arteries. "Estel, I will have to do this now, just hold him right there, sitting beside you." Estel nodded, closing his eyes. With one experienced and swift movement, Elrond lifted Legolas' arm hard against the bone's resistance.

The loud cracks within the shoulder joint almost made Estel sick and he thought they could have been heard throughout Imladris as well, not only in the Healing Ward of the House of Elrond. They sounded like breaking a strong branch from a tree, no, even more sickening. Estel felt his friend tense underneath his hands and the relaxed muscles came to life again. Legolas moaned and tried to back away because of the fresh, hot pain.

"Done." Elrond once again dug his fingertips into the shoulder where he could feel the bone in fresh pieces. The collarbone, luckily, was still in the right place. He felt sorry for the young ellon and the pain he had to cause. "Estel, please mix him some pain relieving herbs. Something strong. As you might have guessed, we will set the bone in the early hours of morning, right after dawn. He shall not suffer much longer. I want you, Elladan and Elrohir with me. Estel, you shall prepare Legolas for the procedure. But let him sleep first. As you know, wash him, braid his hair, and change the sheets for we cannot ask a chambermaid doing this so late at night. I will go to fetch the splints and prepare everything I will need." Outside, dark grey clouds began covering the sun. "It is going to rain. Finally," Elrond said, leaving Estel with Legolas.

He awoke to an almost unbelievable throbbing pain in his shoulder, fresh tears on his face. A moan escaped his mouth and he felt the need to grab his shoulder. "No, do not touch it, my friend." Estel's voice blended with the singing of evening birds outside the Healing Rooms. The windows were wide open, and the warm and tender air of a beautiful spring evening filled his weary mind. He smelled and almost tasted the much-awaited rain that must have fallen before. Legolas could see Elladan and Elrohir leaning at one window, talking quietly.

"I am glad you are awake, Legolas, for I need to tell you a few things. But first, you shall drink this," Estel explained and lifted a cup to his mouth.

"Not again. You are not drugging me again, please no," the elf mumbled.

"This is just a pain killer, Legolas, do not be stupid," Elladan now walked over to join them and the archer eventually accepted the hot liquid. He closed his eyes again and felt a cold cloth on his forehead. Within mere minutes, the pain lessened. "What happened? I cannot remember my shoulder hurting so badly before," he asked. Estel sighed groggily. "Ada had to break the bone again. It had already healed a little, but the wrong way. So he had to re-fracture it. He decided to fix the humerus head again in the morning, right after dawn."

Suddenly, Legolas was fully awake. "Why...why so fast? Can...can we not wait at least a day?" he asked and Estel caught a glimpse of a very uncommon emotion within Legolas' eyes: fear. He sat down on the bed with his friend. Estel quailed at the weight of Legolas' gaze, the profound anguish he unveiled piercing him as no blade ever could. But he held the gaze. "No, Legolas, I am sorry. There is no way we can postpone this any longer." Gently, he stroked his friend's hair.

"I will go and summon Ada," Elladan said.

"And I need to give Aduial her evening herbs. I must admit, she is doing fine. Thanks to you, Legolas, they are both fine," Elrohir added.

When the twins left the room, Legolas looked like a little elfling again, his face pale against the white sheets. "I...I would like to see Aranel and Aduial," he whispered.

Estel chuckled, ready to help Legolas to leave his bed. "And you shall, my friend, but only for one brief moment. They are right here, just take a look out of the window." It was not easy to stand and walk with the sedating and pain relieving herbs within his bloodstream, but with his healthy arm slung over Estel's shoulder, he slowly made his way to the wide-open window.

The soft evening breeze played with Legolas' golden hair and the very pale face with the outstanding high cheekbones and the sea blue eyes gave him an almost ethereal look. Legolas inhaled the smell of wet pines and willow trees, of eucalyptus and lilacs, of primroses and geraniums. Estel laughed: "It is the smell of spring, my friend. Just wait. In about three weeks, we are going to ride out together again." Legolas nodded and looked around.

Almost next to the Healing Wing, the mare and her filly were penned in a wooden-fenced paddock near the gardens, both contentedly eating fresh, green grass and alfalfa stalks the twins had brought to them earlier. Legolas stood perfectly still while he took in the peaceful scene. Then, Aduial tossed her head and looked directly at the elf. Suddenly, she started to whinnie joyfully. "She knows who had saved her," Estel grinned and Legolas' heart filled with joy, too. Slowly, they started to head back for the bed, before Elrond would join them.

* * *

The light of almost countless candles painted dark figures and shadows to the stone wall in Legolas' healing room. Still and almost reserved, the elf sat on his bed, wearing only his sleeping trousers. His bare feet hung out of the bed, and he shivered while Estel's hands picked a sponge out of the washbowl. "Are you cold, mellon-nin?" he asked with concern, but the elf shook his head. Softly and slowly, Estel started to wash the back, chest and abdomen of his friend, the sharp and delicate scent of pure alcohol and fresh mince added to the water mixed with the smell of dripping wax from the candles. "Ada says this will prevent infection," Estel quietly explained, whispering smoothly into the elf's ear. Legolas nodded, his mind a little bit blurred from the herbs they had given him earlier, to ease the pain, relax the body - and take away the fear, as Elrond had stated.

Estel carefully washed the injured shoulder and lifted Legolas' arm only one inch to reach each and every part of the joint. The elf moaned almost silently. "Look, Legolas," he whispered, "by tomorrow evening, everything shall be fine again. Everything shall be over then."

Legolas caught Estel's gaze and took a deep breath: "Tell me - how is it going to be?" he asked.

Estel smiled encouragingly, knowing exactly what "it" meant. "Father will make the incision right here, in front of the joint, right beneath the collarbone. He will separate your muscles and tendons, blood vessels and nerves and get to the fractured bone after all. Then he will insert the splints to put the bone-pieces together, make his way back and close the wound, nothing to worry at all, Legolas. The splint-heads will still stake out the wound so they can be drawn later without opening your flesh again," Estel said.

He refilled the bowl with fresh water. But before washing Legolas' hair, he sat down behind his friend, and began opening Legolas' warrior braids. His fingers moved deftly, with the grace of an experienced warrior, although he never braided his own hair. It was the fashion of the elves still. The candlelight gave Legolas' golden hair an almost mysterious glitter.

"I am not so afraid of the procedure itself, Estel, but of the outcome," Legolas softly said. "I trust Lord Elrond, I trust you and the twins. I shall not worry when all of you will be with me, though I do not like being at someones mercy. But I am very afraid that I might permanently lose the full strength of my right arm. What kind of an archer would I be then?"

Estel's fingers still moved through Legolas' long strands. "This will not happen, my friend. Ada is a skilled healer, you know of this. He will do whatever it takes to heal you."

Legolas slowly nodded. "I trust you Estel. You give me hope. You always do."

Estel stopped combing Legolas' hair with his fingers and laid his head against the cheek of his friend. "You know, Legolas, if it were me facing such a procedure, I would be afraid, too. It is not like fighting orcs or something. It is different. Dire, too, but different none the less. You just have to surrender your body while sleeping. This is not easy, I know, but I will be there with you." Legolas turned his head around and their eyes met. They did not speak out their feelings, but both knew them: Trust. The deepest friendship one can imagine, the love of brothers.

Estel started smiling: "And now, Oh you mighty elven warrior, let me wash your hair, before I will have to clean up myself," he said and took the washbowl in his lap. Legolas lowered his head and Estel started to wet his long strands. "Take care, Strider, I still need my lovely hair," Legolas said while Estel smiled and carefully applied lavender oil onto the long, blond tresses. "Still the prissy elf," he teased, "I see. And you the filthy human, " Legolas retorted.

TBC

AN: So far, so good.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Skills of a Healer**

by PeppyPower/Nina

Chapter 5

Standard disclaimer: If I owned elf and ranger, my life would be a mess. So I'll leave them with Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema respectively

Beta: charli800, best beta in Middle-earth

Author's notes: Done! Done! Done! This is the last chapter and I thank you people for your patience and encouraging words, even if I started hating this fic some months ago.

* * *

_Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved._

_Helen Keller_

* * *

Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, father, warrior and healer, woke before dawn. Quietly, he left his bed and walked to the window to greet the new day. The valley lay asleep still; the songs of early birds were yet full of joy and peace. Silver mist hung heavily between pine trees and rooftops. There was plenty of time still before he had to face his task. His task. He shook his head. To speak of Legolas Thranduilion as a task made the whole procedure sound methodical, almost cynical, he thought. Young Thranduilion was of elven kind and the interest in his wellbeing should come from the heart, and from the heart alone. It shouldn't be called a simple "task". He would have to use his skills in all their completeness, without the heaviness he felt. And yet he pondered and dwelt needlessly upon the words spoken centuries ago in Vinyamar, spoken to his great-grandfather Turgon, king of the Hidden City of Gondolin: "Love not too well the work of thy hands and devices of thy heart."

The dark haired half-elf inhaled deeply. Now was not the time to despair. He was wise and far-seeing, but could not in any case foresee the outcome of this day's events. Too troubled was his healer's mind. Alas! He had enough hope and skill left inside his heart, so he felt.

Thus he went to his personal baths to prepare himself once more. His hands would have to be very clean, so he would not cause any germs to enter the young elf's bloodstream while working on him. He carefully dressed in a white robe and tunic, now looking the classical healer. He would not have tarried upon such a garment hitherto, but today, it would be necessary.

As Anor's rays grew stronger and the bird's songs got louder, he wanted to take a brief look upon his patient.

They would take Legolas to an already well prepared room to perform the procedure. He could not attend to him while lying in bed, because there Elrond would have to kneel down to set his fracture. Silently, he opened the door to Legolas room and smiled at the sight. The elf still slept, his fair face relaxed and calm. His healthy hand lay in the lap of Elrond's foster son. Estel sat in a chair next to the bed, crumpled, but sleeping, too.

* * *

'It is like walking to my own execution,' Legolas thought wearily when Estel and the twins lead him to the prepared chamber one and a half hours later. He wore nothing other than short trousers; the bandages on his shoulder had been removed earlier and he caught a glimpse of the big blue-yellow bruise there and the red hot skin surrounding it. His arm was resting comfortably in a sling.

"How do you feel, my friend?" Estel asked as they reached the wooden door to a room at the south wing of the Healing Ward.

"I am fine." Legolas gave his usual answer as they went inside.

Bright sunlight flooded through the room and Legolas looked around. He saw Lord Elrond standing next to the big window dressed in white robes, but he also spotted something like a big table, also covered with white sheets. No bed. The young Sinda swallowed hard.

"Sit up here, Legolas. We chose this table instead of a bed so Ada would have proper access to your shoulder while he's standing," Elladan explained and lead him up to it. Legolas had to get on his tiptoes to reach the table and once more let his gaze wander around. Next to him, he saw another piece of furniture, like a small side table, with lots of tools and items on it: bandages and gauze, various knives, dangerously sharp, scary wound retractors and, in a small bowl, the delicate splints to fix his bone.

Legolas closed his eyes. He was....frightened. Aye. Even if that was an embarrassment to an elven warrior. He tried to compose himself, yet, pray tell-what if Lord Elrond would not be able to heal him? What if Middle-earth's best healer was to fail? He would be of no use as an archer ever again. He loved his bow, the most elegant weapon a warrior could think of.

"Fear not, for I am with you," suddenly, Estel was beside him, whispering into his ear and touching Legolas' left cheek to comfort him. Then he started to bind the archer's plaits and braids together. Legolas felt his heart hammer against his chest when Lord Elrond made his way to him, in his hand a cup filled with a dark green liquid.

"Are you ready, child?" he asked softly and Legolas nodded, his heart in his throat.

"You will feel no pain and experience a very deep, dreamless sleep. This is the strongest sleeping potion I can offer. You may be nauseated later, when you wake up, but that is of lesser importance. I want you to trust me, Legolas. Can you do that?" The intense grey eyes of the healer met confused sea blue ones.

"I trust you," Legolas almost whispered and he sipped at the bitter liquid. He swallowed slowly, almost reluctantly and handed the empty cup to Elrohir.

"You should lie down now, Legolas," Elladan said and helped the archer to lift his long legs onto the table. Elrohir picked a white blanket from the cupboard and laid it over Legolas, stopping at his hips.

"I am not yet tired," Legolas announced and held back a yawn. His eyes glazed over with a strange glitter, but he was still awake. "Sorry, young one, I forgot to tell you that this drug will need a little time to enter your bloodstream," Elrond almost sounded amused.

" 'Tis no problem," the blond elf retorted tiredly and his left hand grabbed Estel's sleeve.

"....you with me?" he asked groggily and Estel took the archer's hand into his own. "I am here, Legolas. Now sleep, mellon, close your eyes."

"It feels so strange. You all look funny," Legolas mumbled and slowly his eyes started to close.

"Estel...," he whispered and Estel lowered his head to understand what the archer was saying "next time we go for a ride, I choose not to break my arm. It hurts," Legolas finally said. Then the eyes of the wood elf closed, his body relaxed and his breathing became slower.

Elladan's long fingers searched for a pulse and he nodded. "Steady; his heart rate is all right, we can begin."

* * *

"I want all of you watch what I am doing here. You shall learn," Elrond said when he chose one of the sharp knives and without hesitation made a long incision on the archer's pale skin. Bright red blood started to seep out of the wound and Estel was there with long white cotton strips to absorb it. But it also dripped on the white sheets below the elf's sleeping figure. Elrond widened the cut with care: he did not want to cut into the nerve plexus right in front of the joint where all the nerves met, leading to the arm and the fingers.

"You see, there is a lot of swollen muscular pressure on this neural spot, " Elrond said and the three younger healers stuck their heads over his shoulder to take a closer look.

Elrond's skilled fingers worked almost magically, Estel thought. It took him a shorter time the three of them had anticipated to finally cut open the joint's capsule and reach the broken bones. Estel's eyes widened at the amount of damage they suddenly faced and even the elven lord had to grit his teeth. The entire humerus head was in pieces right now, after being re-fractured.

"It will take some time to put it back together," Elrond said simply. He watched Elladan, holding the wound retractors, give a small nod.

The dark-haired Halfelf worked efficiently but quickly, too. He took a small hammer and forced the splints through bigger bone pieces of the original humerus head to put them together with no space between them. Smaller callus pieces with no use, he removed from the area. The healer put this bone-waste into a small bowl Estel held next to him. When he was done, his fingers lingered around the now roundly formed joint again and found no more bone fragments. Estel, Elladan and Elrohir, who had taken over holding the retractors some time ago, watched in amazement.

"All done," the elven lord finally announced, smiling.

"Who wants to do the re-stitching? And remember, there are some ligaments which have to be stitched to muscles as well, I suppose all of you know the anatomy?"

"I shall do it, Ada," Elrohir said, already washing his hands in a bowl of alcohol and water.

It took him some time to re-stitch the ligaments to where they belonged, with a thread that would dissolve itself during the next weeks. Then he made his way back, through muscles and skin, back to the surface, always stitching and pulling the thread through the archer's flesh. When the younger twin was done, four splints could be seen above the joint. In the meantime, Estel took a wet cloth to get rid of the sweat on Legolas' forehead.

"Well done. When we take out the splints, the big cut will heal almost without a mark. For normally, as you well know, the Firstborn do not scar," Elrond added.

Elladan and Elrohir started to bandage the wound without any herbs on it.

"Herbs would not do any good on this tender wound, those splints sticking out and all," the older twin said, now checking on their patient.

Legolas lay perfectly still, as if he were in another time, place and world. Only his slowly rising chest revealed that he was still with them in the chamber. Outside, the rising of Anor showed the time of day: It was around late morning right now, which meant they had been working for more than four hours.

"His heartbeat is very slow, indicating that the sleeping draught has not yet left his body. And it will not be easy on him to wake up. Most likely, he will be nauseated," Elrond said. He still stood by Legolas's side and his long fingers found their way to the sleeping ellon's forehead. The Lord of Imladris closed his eyes and gave freely all he had to offer; since not only his hands were supposed to heal but his healer's mind also. He stood tall, concentrating, then withdraw in an almost unseen motion – knowing the young one would now heal, given time.

"Please take him to his bed in his own healing room, for I do not wish him to wake up in here," the healer added and Elladan slowly put his hands under Legolas' knees and on his healthy shoulder to carry the still sleeping archer to his room. Elrond did not need to say it, but the three of them knew that Legolas should not be on his own until he was fully awake once more. The elven lord and healer watched them leave when Estel turned around to have a last look at the former white sheets, now full of dark red blood. Legolas' blood.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­When Legolas opened his eyes again, Anor's bright rays were streaming in through the south window, bathing the room in a cheerful afternoon glow. The elf lay quietly, moving his gaze slowly around the chamber, inhaling the crisp spring air. The bright light hurt his eyes and he felt ill, nauseated, simply not well. Consciousness seemed to play with him: it tricked him and fled away every time he tried to focus his eyes sharply. He managed to do so for mere seconds, then sleep came and claimed him again. Somewhere in his body, he felt things which had not been there before. He did not know how long it took him to finally open his eyes, but it was already dark outside the room and he heard the call of a lonely owl.

"Welcome back."

Aragorn's voice was low, next to him, and Legolas tried to concentrate on his friend. It was just then he felt his stomach's rebellion.

"Sick," he managed to mumble and suddenly Elrohir was at his side, holding a bowl .

"Take care and help him, Estel, we do not want to hurt his shoulder any more," Elladan mumbled and Estel was right there to sit up the retching elf. He held the blonde hair out of the way and whispered soothing words in Sindarin to distract Legolas from the pain and the always miserable feeling that came with throwing up. Because of his still empty stomach, the elf only brought up a small amount of liquid. Legolas did not say a word, but he allowed Estel to lay him down again, exhausted and with a few tears on his face. The ranger gently wiped them away with a cool cloth.

"This will go away, Legolas, vomiting is a common side effect of this drug," he said.

The elf closed his eyes again.

"How....long?" he whispered his question.

"A few hours. It is evening now," Elladan answered and brought a new bowl. Just in case.........

"Did it...did it...work?" Legolas asked tiredly. Estel felt the now warm fingers of the archer's right hand, blood streaming through them again.

"Aye, my friend, it did. Sleep a little more," he said and Legolas closed his eyes and fled from the already newly forming nausea, the pure and sweet flavors of fennel, purple coneflower and mountain arnica in the room lulling him to sleep again.

His next awakening was with a grumbling stomach. The ill feeling had gone and he felt hungry, but first of all, very, very thirsty.

"You are some warrior," Estel suddenly laughed, next to him and Legolas opened his eyes to see the reason: his left hand had closed around Estel's finger in sleep and he had his long legs stacked on his friends lap, only partly covered by the bedcovers. His injured right arm lay on top of a soft pillow and his hair had been unbraided again.

"How is the pain?" Estel asked, while his father entered the room.

"Bearable," Legolas said and inhaled deeply, only to moan aloud.

"Bearable only if you do not move, I suppose," Elrond chuckled and stepped closer: "I brought you some water."

Estel helped Legolas to sit up and the archer eagerly reached for the glass. One seemed barely enough. He would have emptied a whole bottle or at least two more had Elrond not stopped him once he finished the first one: "Enough now, young one. You should also drink this, a pain-relieving herbal tea, and after that, you can have breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Legolas asked and raised big, blue eyes.

"It is the next day, my friend. I told you this sleeping draught would be a powerful one," Estel grimaced.

"If it is breakfast, then I have a wish. I am ill so I think the cooks would do me a little favor?" the elf asked sheepishly.

"I already know what is going to come...," Estel mumbled.

"Strawberry pastries, " Legolas said happily. "What else?"

Lord Elrond left the room, laughing, then turned around: "Estel, get some sleep. I shall send the twins to keep Legolas company with his....umh...breakfast. And, Legolas, I am sorry to say: No pastries today but oatmeal. A lot easier on your stomach." Suddenly, the ranger felt tired from watching over his friend, but he did not want to leave, either.

"Just go," Legolas grinned. "I will not be sick again," he promised, while Estel stood up, in dire need of his own bed.

* * *

It was already evening, when Estel returned to Legolas' side. He had slept for about ten hours without even moving a toe, his own tiredness getting the better of him. Legolas was awake, when Estel entered the room. The elf's face was still pale and he had not touched his dinner yet, but he smiled happily at his friend's appearance.

"How are you feeling, Legolas?" Estel asked and pulled a chair next to his friend's bed.

"Your father said I am as well as can be expected, for he told me I must have lost quite an amount of blood," Legolas slowly answered. He sounded tired, but smiled.

Estel returned the smile, his heart laughing at the musical quality Legolas' voice again had, even if it sounded worn and tired.

"Would you mind my company?" he asked.

Now Legolas nearly laughed: "Estel, I have never minded your company. I do believe, more often than not, I would seek you out among the trees." Another wistful look crossed the fair features and Estel resisted the urge to reach out and wrap the Elf in his arms, knowing that such an action would cause Legolas more pain.

"Before you ask, my friend: No, I am not hungry. I was in the morning and ate the oatmeal then, but I did not eat after that for I still feel a little nauseous, " Legolas told him. "I know, your father said I would have to eat to regain some strength. So I promised to eat more tomorrow."

Only moments later, Elrond and the twins entered the room.

"Not hungry, Legolas?" The elven lord asked, but the younger elf again shook his head.

"Well then. You will have to eat in the morn. But I have come to start to exercise your shoulder," he simply said.

Legolas' eyes grew big at those words. And before he could say a word, Elrohir presented him a cup filled with his usual pain-killing tea.

"Worry not. It only contains your pain killer and a muscle relaxant, no sleeping herb, Legolas. Just drink it and I shall take a look at how your shoulder works," Elrond said.

Estel squeezed his friend's left hand and stood up to allow his father a little more space – and to help Legolas sit up in his bed. The elf gulped down his tea and tried to sit straight without showing how dizzy he felt. His shoulder hurt. But it only took minutes and he experienced the sensation of relaxing muscles.

"Sit behind him on the bed, Estel, I will move to the other side to take his arm," Elrond said and Legolas closed his eyes, afraid of the things up to come.

"Easy, relax, child. Let go of your fear," Elrond told him, while he loosened the thick bandages that were only slightly coloured with dark red blood.

"It looks good. The swelling and bruising have reduced. And now...just sit and let me do the work," Elrond asked, while he took Legolas' arm in his own. Legolas felt himself on the verge of panicking, but tried to remain calm, while Estel whispered soothing words into his ear. And then, he saw just how easily Lord Elrond moved his limb up and down, carefully and just a little bit, but he could feel how his shoulder came to life again. It did not hurt as much as he had thought or anticipated and Legolas was glad for that, a smile forming on his lips.

"Your shoulder is healing well, Legolas," Elrond commented.

"And if the elfling eats properly in the morning, we may let him out of bed," Elrohir added, smiling.

"Is that so?" Estel asked, surprised.

"Aye. Surgeries like this mayhap force the blood to build up clots. We can hinder that by sending the patients back on their feet again," Elladan reminded him and Legolas' smile grew even bigger.

"Am I allowed to visit Aranel and Aduial then?" the archer asked and Elrond laughed, too.

"Of course, young one. Tomorrow, with Estel's help, you can go out and take a look at how tall the filly is already."

* * *

"Dead center. No one could do better, Legolas." Estel stood behind his friend on the shooting range and directed the archer to lower his bow for a minute. Then he laid his fingers on Legolas' shoulder and easily massaged the muscles. Legolas just stood there, saying nothing. It was now about a week since Elrond had removed the four splints. And he was finally allowed to practice again. It was not easy drawing the string of his prized one hundred pounder bow back with his still aching, weakened shoulder, but he was working hard on it.

"You know that the muscles still need their exercise back, Legolas, do not push yourself too hard," Lord Elrond had warned him. Nonetheless, the blonde archer spent a great amount of time here with Estel, to regain his usual skills back, as fast as possible.

"Let me try again, Estel," Legolas begged. In those days, his will was strong again.

"You are one annoying Sinda.....and aye, before you even say it: I do know that you keep refering to yourself as a Silvan elf, my friend, even if your father is elsewhere entitled as one of the Sindar." Estel grinned and stepped back so Legolas could finally put an arrow on his bowstring again. Using a quiver would be out of question now: there was still too little strength within his arm. But Legolas just wanted to practice shooting, that was enough.

"Estel! That is so unfair! I am a Woodland elf, though one of a royal and originally Sindarin line. If that suffices......." and with that, he raised his left arm, holding the bow. His body knew what was going to be needed: 'Draw, hold, inhale, exhale, don't breathe and then release' he told himself and his right arm, still feeling somewhat numb in a few places, provided the needed movements. The arrow flew true and hit the bull's eye once more. "Perfect as usual. I would still trust your aim with my life," Estel commented sheepishly. Legolas, too, grinned.

"Thanks to your father. And to you. I am glad I trusted you," the archer said, when they slowly walked over to the barns and stables.

Aduial and Aranel joyfully greeted them. Legolas always had a carrot or an apple with him to please the horses and Galad looked over her wooden paddock, too, as if she were begging to get a carrot herself.

"I was wondering........," Estel started when Legolas fed the horses and shot him a curious look.

".....just when we shall have another try? Rohan is still waiting and Aranel should grow up here in Imladris, so we will not have to worry for them both," he said and gladly saw the elf next to him smile widely.

"Anytime, Estel," Legolas answered, laughing silently, his sea blue eyes displaying his eagerness.

End

A/N: Thanks for staying with me, my friends. Until next time! I wish you all health and a happy new year.


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